


Scars Left After

by bellonia



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: Hurt/Comfort, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-27
Updated: 2012-01-27
Packaged: 2017-10-30 05:11:56
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/328109
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellonia/pseuds/bellonia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kmeme fill - Anders and Hawke after fighting the Arishok.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Scars Left After

There would be scars he couldn't heal, that no matter how much magic he pushed into Hawke, no matter how many lyrium potions he took to heal them more, Anders couldn't fix him. 

Some could be stitched with needle and thread, whispered apologies at the grunts and hisses, sounds he'd once enjoyed because it meant that he was coming apart at the seams. He didn't expect it to feel so literal.

Other scars could only be fixed by time - the scar left by a letter. The letter written by Hawke's best friend - the woman who flirted outrageously and made inappropriate comments and would drunkenly kiss him because it made Anders grumble and fuck harder to remind Hawke where he belonged. The sight of Isabela with the tome of Koslun tucked under her arm and that swagger as though she couldn't be anywhere but here could only be a balm rubbed into the skin mixed with prayers for healing.

The deeper scars, though, had come from seeing his mother, from killing a monsterous creation with her face. Nothing could aid that but time and even then, Anders couldn't know.

Hawke was on bedrest - being repeatedly impaled on the Arishok's sword would do that to a man, which earned a crooked little smile out of him when Anders told him and earned a crooked little smile back. Now Anders knew he would be okay with time and patience and magic. He found himself unable to leave Hawke's bedside during the healing process. 

Partially, it was to stop his poorly planned attempts at self-destruction. It had been days since the fight that he was trying to get out of bed, trying to pick fights with anyone who would listen. 

Anders was a professional at picking fights. He picked them back and let Hawke say everything that he probably meant right now but wouldn't when the raw, emotional wounds had closed. Or he would still mean them and they would have the same fight over and over for years to come and he would be okay with that. Because then Hawke would be alive and safe and he could protect Hawke and what was the irony of that? The man who solved everyone else's problems, protected everyone he found being protected by him, someone who couldn't even protect himself. At least, Anders reassured himself, he hadn't gotten himself into single combat with a giant. What was running away from the Circle seven times compared to that?

Now Hawke was waking, shifting and letting out low sounds. "If you rip your stitches, I will light you on fire," Anders warned.

"You'd just give yourself more work," Hawke opened one eye and grumbled at the mage light by the bed, the light small enough he hadn't acclimated in his sleep. 

"Or it will cauterize your wounds and take care of that for me." He rose and began to check the bandages and the stitches. He found a spot of blood where Hawke's movement at night had ripped them. He had the mana to spare to heal it with magic, spreading it through the man's body.

"So, Doctor Sparklefingers-"

"I never should have told you those stories."

"I plied you with alcohol," he grinned. "You know what I miss about being active?"

"What?" he curled his fingers against his cheek gently but Hawke moved to kiss his fingertips gently, sucking one into his mouth. Anders shivered and reclaimed his hand.

"My favorite in-bed activities." 

"You know you can't because you fuck like it's a competition."

"One that we both win." He had that damn smile, the wicked one, the plotting one, the one that got them into trouble. It was the smile Hawke got when he wondered what two of Sandal's enchantments could do together and did you know that they exploded? and was Anders capable of healing eyebrows back because he just didn't feel like himself when he was missing one eyebrow.

"You will stay in bed and stay still if I have to tie you here," Anders threatened him.

"Oh bondage, I don't think that's something we've done yet." He wrapped an arm around Anders as if he knew the mage wouldn't struggle because it would rip his stitches. "Just a kiss, please," he breathed. "I just want to feel you and know you're here with me."

Anders couldn't deny him, he could never deny him anything. He knew every wound, ever bruise, every piece of torn skin on Hawke's body, down to the hangnails. He shifted over him, over his hips, to kiss him with just the briefest touch of his lips but then Hawke had his hand curled in his hair, holding him close to demand more and wasn't that just like him, never taking only what was given.

"If you think I do it wrong," Hawke was saying, "Then teach me another way," and it was said without sarcasm. He didn't know what he found in Hawke's face - the hurt, the love, the need for something. "I need you," he continued.

"Oh, Love," Anders breathed and kissed him again, letting Hawke's hands wander, curling against his hips. With just his hands, he guided Anders to move and out of his clothes. Hawke always slept in the nude, especially now that Anders was constantly checking his wounds so he was bare skin covered by bandages to Anders' hands.

Old scars and new scars covered the rogue’s body, signs of his own foolishness and Anders' failures and pains he wanted to kiss away, so he did his best. His lips pressed to Hawke's, his mouth drawing out low sighs. His hands were gentle as they moved over Hawke's body.

"Patience is... not one of your virtues," Anders told him with the faintest smile.

"Perhaps you should teach me one day," Hawke gave him another smile. "Please, help me prop up? I want to... touch more." He groaned some as it twisted his stitches some but didn't let that stop him as he was propped up, holding Anders on his lap. At times, the kissing moved to biting and the touching was more nails than anything else but Anders didn't complain. 

He slid down his body, kissing and nuzzling and whispering affectionate words against his skin while Hawke shuddered and touched lightly but he seemed content to accept what Anders gave him for once in his life.

"If you move too much, I will stop completely," Anders warned, his movements having brought him to set his head against his hip, getting a good look at Hawke's erection.

"You wouldn't," he protested, moving to wrap his hand around himself before the hand was pushed off. "I would just take care of myself, you know." 

"Magic," Anders told him simply. "I'll make it so you can't get hard for a week."

"...bastard."

"Probably," Anders agreed but he had wrapped his hand around Hawke's cock and was stroking firmly so the only response he got out of Hawke was a groan and a push of his hips. "Still," he reminded Hawke and got a frustrated growl.

"When I'm better, I will get my revenge on you. I'll throw you over every flat surface in this damn place and fuck you until you won't think about anything but me when you move," the words faded off when Anders took his cock into his mouth, sucking in the worst, most teasing manner possible. "And I'll stop just short of making you come if you don't stop teasing me!"

It earned him something - Anders taking him fully into his mouth, swallowing, distracting him but nothing could distract him from the strange little motions Anders was making and the way he was moving. "Are you...?" he moaned softly and tugged Anders' head up, "Please, I want to see."

Oh he was right. There was a flush bright against Anders' face, but more than that, he could see that he had his hand between his legs, two fingers buried in himself. 

He tugged Anders in closer to him to kiss him, hard, following the line of his body. Anders made soft sounds against his lips while he worked his fingers in himself harder then gasped as Hawke explored where his fingers opened him. "Uhn," was the sound that slid out of him when Hawke eased another alongside his own, then another, moving them slowly but manipulating everything he knew Anders loved, seeking the sounds he always made. 

"Yes, good," he whispered against Hawke's skin before kissed him, again distracting while he tugged their hands free and twined their fingers. Their hands remained intertwined while he rose over Hawke and sank down on his cock, letting out a low moan as he took him fully. He rocked a little bit and shuddered.

"More!" Hawke demanded, trying to rock up but Anders was still and solid against him, his body holding him down and still. He growled and dug his free hand into his hip, nails digging in to the skin.

"Patience," he purred and rolled his hips a little, moaning softly while he watched the frustrated look melt off of his face, slowly replaced by pleasure. Knowing when Hawke was too far gone to do anything but accept, he began to move slowly, rising and lowering himself on him.

They were a blend of soft, slow sounds. His forehead fell onto Hawke's shoulder, Hawke's free arm wrapped around him to hold him. He had to stay careful, he had to stay slow and lazy for Hawke's sake... but it built up, their breathy noises getting louder. He moved for a better angle, letting out a sound when it let Hawke jerk up into him just once. 

Hawke's hand wrapped around his cock firmly and began to stroke him in quick, firm motions but Anders removed his hand, giving him a little smile.

"I'm not that injured!" he protested, glowering.

"No, but you like to watch..." he let out a low moan, deep in his throat as he jerked off steadily. "Let me give this to you."

Hawke couldn't protest anymore, his gaze was fixed on watching Anders move and writhe, fascinated by the movements of his hand on his cock and the way his body moved, even the way his face was open to breathe and open in emotion and all the cheesy things he avoided thinking about but it was amazing to see and he did love watching Anders melt and moan.

"Maker, yes," Anders moaned as he finally came, arching and shuddering. Hawke let out a low growl, wanting to push more but he found himself coming, clutching at Anders.

Anders' hands were warm as they cleaned him off, checking that his bandages hadn't been contaminated with seed, which made Hawke smile a bit because he couldn't stop being a healer long enough to bask in the afterglow. But when he went back to the chair he hadn't left in days beyond asking Orana to bring food, he frowned.

"If I'm well enough to be fucked, I'm well enough to cuddle," he stated flatly, but it earned a small smile out of Anders and that was what mattered to him right then because it was something he could focus on.


End file.
